Ten
by Silver.Witchy.Things
Summary: Ten moments. Ten moments where he loved her. Ten moments when he fell even more. In a world where Fosca and Giorgio's story didn't end like it did. Rated T just in case. May change.
1. Warmth

Summary: Ten moments. Ten moments where he loved her. Ten moments when he fell even more. In a world where Fosca and Giorgio's story didn't end like it did.

Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot of this story is mine my dudes.

A/N: Passion is a beautiful musical and definitely deserves more recognition. And while the ending is amazing, I wish we got to see Fosca and Giorgio in more happy moments together. So this doc exists in a world where Giorgio stayed after the duel when Fosca convinced her cousin to let him. Enjoy!

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-One: Warmth-

The morning after their night of passion, Giorgio awoke and surveyed his surroundings. Eyes falling upon the window, curtain, door, the blankets pooled on the bed, and finally, he gazed upon his lover in his arms.

Looking down at Fosca, Giorgio watched her closely; knowing he was likely to see her ever again. How long he had looked past her, instead of looking at her. And so, he was determined to etch every detail of her into his mind. The ebony hair; with gratification he ran his fingers through the long silky tresses. Her plump lips; he traced his thumb on her bottom lip and smiled, how soft they were. Brows furrowing, Fosca raised her hand to rub at the spot he had touched and Giorgio chuckled. She was pressed up so closely against him that he'd think she was another blanket, and a hand that was curled so gently rested on his chest. She was perfect.

Dawn slowly broke over the horizon; the first soft rays spilling in through the window, signaling the time for his departure. He felt his heart seize at the thought of leaving her, and the prospect of staying was so tempting -to just curl to her form, avoid the world and enjoy her, her warmth- he almost gave in. But he knew there was no avoiding this. So slowly, as to not wake her, he rose from the bed.

Once he was finished dressing, he crossed to the door, and sparing one last longing glance, he left.

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A/N: Just a heads up, most of these chapters will be relatively short. They are _moments_ after all.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Health

-Two: Health-

Fosca's health goes up and down. There are good days and bad days, but fortunately the good days have been growing more frequent. She's healthier, happier, and content; all of which Giorgio thanks whatever god there is for. The convulsions occur seldom now, and it's been so long since the last one. That is until he looks up from his book to see her on the brink of one and his heart almost stops.

He recognizes the look well enough; the signs of an oncoming attack. Her eyes screwed shut, her back ramrod straight, her jaw full of tension, and nails biting into her hands. Knowing she wouldn't say anything, Giorgio set his book to the side and crossed over to where she was sitting on the settee. By the lack of reaction, he assumes she doesn't notice his presence. Slowly, as to not alarm her, he takes her hand in his; uncurling her fingers and squeezes her hand soothingly. Her eyes snap open and he places a tender kiss on her head, and he rubs her back in careful circles.

"You have to breathe, Fosca," he murmured to her. She rested her head on his shoulder and answered in a quiet voice, "I don't-want to..to scream. It's frightening."

Giorgio felt his heart give. "My love, it would trouble me more if you kept it bottled up. You need to let it out." She nodded and clutched his hand tightly. A moment later he heard it. A low keening sound from the back of her throat.

Her cries rose and fell in volume and length. All the while Giorgio held her; saying soothing words to her and caressing her hair. And he loves her.

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AN: Thanks for the review! And sorry for slow updating on all of my fics! The thing is I write the chapters down in notebooks when I'm struck with inspiration during school, and I just have trouble getting around to typing them up!


	3. Debate

Something that was a very welcoming surprise was that Fosca could debate for hours on end if she was feeling up to it. She was also stubborn, though Giorgio already knew that, and wouldn't back down from a point. But when you combine an aptitude for debate with stubborness, Giorgio had met his match.

"But I'm telling you, Giorgio, Julie _does_ love her family," insisted Fosca as the two ate their lunch in the greenhouse.

He sighed, "But if she really loved them, then why did she leave?"

"She left _because_ she loved them." She reached over to grab another sugar cube for her coffee and continued, "She knew they all loved her and would miss her, but she also knew she was a burden on them. Josef was having trouble paying her medical finances, Maria wanted to pursue acting and didn't want to disappoint her mother, and Max wanted to marry that girl without the guilt of leaving his mother. So she left." She stirred her coffee.

Giorgio had to admit her argument was strong. She was often right; connecting the dots he had missed. He was just missing one point, "How does that prove she loved them?"

Fosca's face softened and she smiled at him with a slight sadness, "If you love something set it free."

She spelled it out plainly. Still he was dissatisfied. Shaking his head he looked at her, "That's a terrible end."

"Oh? It's realistic, isn't it?" she asked, puzzled.

"Yes, but Russo didn't include the whole truth." He took her hand in his; he watched as she looked down to their hands then back up to his eyes.

"If you love something set it free. If it comes back to you, then it's yours."

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AN: The moments should be getting longer in later chapters, drabbles do nicely though I think.


	4. Promise Part 1

AN: I'm really trying to get better at this updating thing and I have some fics I have yet to publish. How would you feel about a sweeney fic? And a multi-chapter passion fic? Let me know!

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-Four: Promise Part 1-

He wakes up in a cold sweat and he looks around him; searching among cots for a body he knows he will not find there. Giorgio still sleeps in the barracks, for it would be improper otherwise. But now he is convinced that this will no longer do. He already struggles being so far from Fosca, he can't do it anymore.

The images still race across his eyes. Blurred in some places. Vibrant in others. But he remembers it all the same. Her hand had been so weak in his, and her eyes held no life. It had been so real. The feeling of kissing cold, unmoving lips. Her chest hadn't moved, and no matter what he did, he could not breathe life back into her.

Crying out, he shook his head, willing the horrors away from his mind. He needed to see her. Giorgio rose from his cot; dressing quickly and without care of waking his neighbors, he got ready in haste. He strode out of the barracks, not bothering to check if anyone saw him. Upon arriving to the base's door, he barged in and swiftly set up the stairs, skipping two at a time, to Fosca's chambers. Once he reached the door he jerked the handle open and entered the room; he looked to the bed but could not find her there. Overwhelmed in the moment, he pressed his hands to his eyes and made to leave the room, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Giorgio?"

Giorgio whipped around to see Fosca sitting at the window, the first rays of sunlight falling across her face. He hadn't seen her in the shadows.

"Giorgio, are you alright?" her voice was full of concern. He crossed the room to her and fell at her lap; he hugged her to him. He felt her breathing increase at the surprise. Her sweet breathing. She was alive. She was alive and safe, and in his arms. He could do nothing for a moment, except hold her. It was the tender hands petting his scalp that brought him out of his stupor.

"You were dead," he whispered, "You were dead in my dream and there was nothing I could do. When I awoke you weren't there with me. I cannot stand this, Fosca. I cannot stand this distance." Giorgio raised his head to look at her and saw her worried face. He moved to sit sit beside her and pulled her into his arms once again. Taking her face in hand, he turned it to look into her eyes. "Fosca, promise me you will never leave me."

A smile spread on her face, "I believe it should be I asking that of you."

"Just please. Promise me."

She kissed his hand and nodded, "I promise."

Unbidden to his will, Giorgio felt tears come to his eyes. "I hate this. I hate that I cannot protect you at all hours. I hate that I cannot confirm your safety for myself when I sleep alone. I hate that something could happen, and I would not be there immediately." Fosca's hand reached up and wiped away his tears with her thumb, "Then come stay with me at night."

Giorgio shook his head, "I want desperately to do this, but I can't. Your cousin would never allow it. We are only just getting away with what we have now. Not only is it improper, but only married soldiers are permitted to stay out of the barracks. And we are not married. I-" he stopped mid-sentence in realization at what he had just said. Giorgio gazed at Fosca, observing her confusion and surprise. After a few moments, she seemed to have guessed his thoughts.

Her eyes widened, "Giorgio, you can't-" he clasped her hands tightly in his.

"Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me, Fosca. Let me marry you. Let me dance with you in the open. Let me kiss you in front of my men." He watched her; searching her face for rejection, but he knew there would be none. She loved him. Even where they were now, he was still shocked at which the severity she loved him with. He did not find rejection, but he did find disbelief.

Fosca ducked her eyes, "Are you sure of this? Do you really want to marry me?"

"Yes! Yes I do, I do."

She pulled at some strings on her dress and continued, "I want you to be happy, Giorgio, I-" He interrupted her. "Then marry me, my love."

Noticing how she still did not look up, he brought his hand under her chin and tilted her head up; he pressed his lips to hers, trying to reassure her of his love. After a moment she pulled the slightest bit away, "Okay."

Giorgio smiled and brought her into a deeper kiss.

"My cousin isn't going to like this."

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AN: Kinda rushed I know, but it's currently 1:44 am and I really wanted to finish this. I'm gonna crash now.


	5. Promise Part 2

A/N: Sorry it has been forever! But life just caught me off guard! But! Exciting new: I'm going to see writing a lot more now that I'm done with school! And I have a sweeney and Penny Dreadful fic in the works!

A/N2: Also keep in mind I am writing this with the knowledge of a vague article about 1800s Italy. So I apologize to any historically aware people reading this.

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When Giorgio had went to Fosca's cousin the following day with the intention to marry, he had been expecting a long argument about being transferred. Instead, he got a swift punch t the jaw and a visit with Doctor Tambouri.

"Ouch!" Giorgio hissed and gratefully took the cool washcloth from the Doctor. He gingerly pressed it to the large bruise and moaned a little in pain. The doctor gave an amused laugh and finished packing up his things.

"Captain, I'd expect you to have tougher skin. Being a soldier and all," he said and turned to Giorgio who was nursing his jaw.

Wincing Giorgio moved the cloth to speak, "I feel as though this wound hurts more due to the circumstances behind it."

Doctor Tamourbi paused and with trepidation in his voice asked, "And what, may I ask, _are_ those circumstances?" Giorgio looked up at the Doctor's face and saw the suspicious eyes, and lowered his gaze again. He knew the Doctor would respond negatively. Maybe not as serious as the Colonel, but negatively nonetheless. He hadn't exactly been thrilled when he started spending more time with Fosca.

"Captain?" Doctor Tamouri pressed.

"I… I had told him that I intended to marry Fosca."

After a few moments, Giorgio had still heard nothing from the doctor. He risked a glance and saw that he was seated at a his desk with his head in his hands. Somehow, this felt worse than a punch. This felt as if he was about to be scolded by his father. When another beat had passed Doctor Tambouri sighed and spoke up, "Captain, we have already been over this. Fosca could never be-"

Giorgio shot to his feet, "But she has been getting better! This you, I, and all of the men have seen!"

"But this does not mean it would be right for you to marry her!"

"Please doctor, it's not exactly a secret to the whole entire base that I've practically been courting Signora Fosca. Even going further than courting. This has been evident to everybody. If anything, the right thing to do, would be to marry her." He reached over and rested his hand on the doctor's shoulder; conveying, or at least trying to convey how much he needed this. Giorgio felt him sag under his hand. Doctor Tambouri looked at him and nodded, "If you were in need of permission, you have it."

"I was not; if anything, I ask you to aid me in convincing her cousin," Giorgio knew he'd need the help.

The Colonel had been livid. It had taken a good deal of coaxing, a good deal of pleading, and a good deal of threats. Giorgio supposes that the thing that finally made him give was Fosca herself. He laughed to himself at the memory of her fierceness when she confronted her cousin. As if sensing his thoughts, the said woman stirred in his arms and he looked down at her.

They were bundled together on a bench in the garden. They had risen before the sun and left, wanting to see it break from the garden. He insisted she try to get some rest before it did and promised to wake her. She stirred again, and he found himself smiling as he remembered how she shouted at her cousin when she learned of him not permitting the marriage. Telling him it wasn't his place to allow it or not, maybe if he had been her father or a brother sure. It was something to see, and in the end her cousin had relented. Though. Giorgio knew he was not entirely pleased.

The orange-gold beams first peeking over the horizon drew him from his thoughts. The sunrise.

Giorgio gently shook Fosca's shoulder rousing her from her sleep. She lifted her head wearily, "Hm?"

"The sunrise, my love. You asked me to wake you when it came."

The reaction was almost immediate. She sat up next to him; yawning, she stretched and turned to him with a smile and Giorgio knew that the spectacle they were watching wouldn't compare.


	6. Letters

A/N: SOOOOO SORRY! It's now summer and I just got so caught up in working and family and ah! I couldn't find the time! But I'm determined to get back into the groove of things!

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Six: Letters

Giorgio whistled happily to himself as he bounded up the stairs to the study. He had been looking for Fosca for the past hour and he's surprised at himself for now thinking of it sooner. He had nothing of importance to tell her, but sit in her company. And maybe tell her the way one of the lieutenants ended up under the backside of a horse.

Upon entering the study, he knew something was wrong. The exclaim of happiness, the feeling of his beloved's arms around him, or invitation to join. He was positive she was there, but it took him a moment to find her beside the window, golden sunshine shining on her face. He made his presence known and brown eyes landed on him. The sunshine made them look like liquid gold.

He expected a smile, a soft word, but… nothing. Giorgio studied Fosca and noticed she seemed...resigned. She turned her attention back outside.

"Fosca?" He crossed over to where she was sitting and tried to take her hand that rested on the table and she pulled it away and tucked it in her lap. She still didn't look at him.

He laughed lightly, not used to the situation, it made him nervous.

"Fosca, my love," she closed her eyes, "what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Did one of your cousin's men say something?"

She remained silent. The only hint that she heard him being the tightening of her jaw.

"Have I done something?"

Finally, she breathed in and opened her mouth to speak. But what she said made his blood run cold, "'My Dearest Clara'..." She rested the unfinished letter on the table.

"Fosca, it is not what you think-"

"You were writing to her," accusing eyes met his, sad, but with a hint of fire in them, "I knew this day was coming, Giorgio. I hoped -god, I hoped- but I knew it was too good to be true." She looked down. "But I had thought you would've told me first."

Giorgio didn't know what to say. She had always thought this? That she was just enjoying something temporary? It made want to weep. He took her hand in his, feeling her start to pull away, and tightened his hold gently.

"Please let go," her voice was thick with tears.

He just held on and kissed her hand, much like she did on that day long ago. "Fosca-"

"Please!" she looked at him, tears running down her cheeks.

He joined her on her side of the small table and wrapped his arm of around her shoulders. She tried to move out of them, "Fosca, love please, you're going to work yourself into a fit. Please, let me explain."

"There's no need."

"Yes there is."

She shuddered and stopped, falling against his arm, she sighed and looked at him. "Why?"

"Yes, I was writing to her. I was going to tell her the end of the relationship between her and I is over. I left her no response. She had loved me, I owe her that at least. I leave her waiting forever."

Fosca's breathing had calmed, but she still didn't say a word. He tried to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head. He kissed her hair instead.

"Fosca, it is you that I love." She slowly turned her head and looked at him. "It is _you_ that I am going to marry! I love _you_." He cupped her cheek and wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. "I love you." He kissed her slowly, and with some hesitation, she reciprocated. They both melted into the kiss. Fosca placed her hand on his chest and pulled away; she rested her forehead against his. "I love you too."

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A/N: Sorry it's so short but there's more chapters and stories to come!


	7. Stars

A/N: Hey to let readers of this fic know, I now have a Sweeney Todd fic up! Go and check it out! And we're nearing the end of this one, so I'm going to try and end it on a happy note…. Just not this chapter. Enjoy!

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-Seven: Stars-

Giorgio was never sure of meeting of meeting Clara's son. They had never brought it up in any of their meetings together. There was always this underlying awareness that it had to be addressed sometime if they were to continue their affair. He supposed he was lucky in a way. He never had to deal with the worry now.

Though, as he entertained the thought more, it would have been nice to have a son to teach things to. Play games and raise a fine man. He smiled at the idea of carrying some little boy on his shoulders just as his father did him.

He knew that wouldn't be a possibility with Fosca. He knew that there could be a chance, but unless she was suddenly perfectly healthy, complications were too very likely. Giorgio was aware that Fosca knew this all too well herself. He still remembers the day a few of the soldiers families had come to visit them and a party had been thrown and enjoyed. There were many children, even a few babies; Fosca had a ball. She had been well for a good while, and he recalled smile on her face as she held and interacted with the children around her. _She would have been a great mother_ , he thought fondly.

But it had only reminded her of what she could never have, and that night he held her as she silently weeped. Kissing her tears away as she repeated apology after apology for what she couldn't give him. And apology after apology he reassured her that he didn't need it as long as he had her.

It took about a week for her to get past it. He knows that she still thinks about it from time to time. So does he. But now it's dealt with a wistful smile and a soft kiss between the two. They only need each other.

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A/N: Another short one! Next one will be longer, and I was wondering if anyone would be interested in a Helena and Elizabeth fic from War Paint? It's an amazing show and I just can't get it out of my head! Reviews are appreciated!


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